


ghost on the shore

by Jupiter_the_Firefox



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alpha Centauri (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Breakup, M/M, Makeup, Makeup Sex, Praise Kink, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens), Wing Kink, these boys are ridiculous but i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26777848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiter_the_Firefox/pseuds/Jupiter_the_Firefox
Summary: after the bandstand scene, Aziraphale goes off to process things alone.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 38





	ghost on the shore

**Author's Note:**

> this is unfinished-

The wind gently blew past Aziraphale and he tilted his head up to breathe in deeply, feeling his heart ache heavily in his chest. All of his long life, he had felt young and spry. He was eager to try new things and explore the world for what it was, but it had all come crashing down in a few sharp exchanges of words. He closed his blue eyes and felt his wings quietly spread out into the world, the feathers glowing ethereally in the soft night darkness. His old heart was beating in his chest unnecessarily. It was a simple human thing, really, and as an angel he had no real need for it. But it was just like his lungs, his stomach, and his regular use of the restroom after he got up in the mornings. They made him feel real, they made him feel normal. Of course, though, none of it could replace-  
Right. Well, he would have to replace him.  
Aziraphale turned his face away from the moon and reopened his eyes as he gazed at the lake. It expanded widely across the horizon, the waves quietly lapping the shore and his feet. He used a quiet miracle to keep his shoes dry, but considered just letting them get wet. He felt like a ghost. Everything that his life had led up to, what was the purpose of it? He'd long since stopped being the Guardian of the Eastern Gate. He'd left Eden alongside Adam and Eve, and with-  
Fuck, did every memory consist of him?  
Aziraphale exhaled sharply as he crossed his mind for the second time and he shook his head. His wings were slumped onto the ground and his posture was drooped, very different from his usual prim and proper stance. Even the slight glow around his form had faded to more of a dull silhouette. Thus far since his creation, he'd always had his companion. They had gone through everything together. Literally everything. Aziraphale dipped his head and drew his large wings to cover himself, biting his bottom lip and resisting the urge to sob. His thoughts were running in tight little circles, refusing to think of anything else. Was it always this way afterwards? His mind was consumed and he knew in that moment he couldn't escape. Who was he, independent of Crowley? They had always been a yin-and-yang sort of deal, never one without the other. Even if they had gone off on their own adventures in the past, they had always reconvened at some point in history. These past eleven years had been the longest time they were together, and he suddenly cursed his immortality and perfect memory. He wouldn't be able to forget a damn thing.  
The sound of the wind blowing across the lake made his thoughts quietly emerge from his own mind and he sighed. This was one of his favorite places to be, and it had been consistently throughout history. It was the one spot Crowley knew nothing of, the one that was entirely his own. The two moons in the sky lit up alongside the stars and he chuckled. How ironic was it, that he'd ended up at the place he'd wanted them to go after all this time? The sand beneath his shoes was slowly causing him to sink and he reached down, slipping them off alongside his socks and just feeling the tiny grains between his toes. He'd been here during all hours of the...well, there weren't exactly days here, were there? With the multiple bodies in the sky, one dusk could bleed into a new dawn in minutes. There was no sense of time, and he'd already forgotten how long he had been up here, alone. Alpha Centauri. The place of dreams and promises, Crowley had made it out to be.  
To Aziraphale, it was a beacon of loneliness. A safe haven of solitude.  
Now, it was more of a prison. The endlessly dancing cycles of the moons, suns, and stars had previously been like clockwork. Aziraphale didn't exactly tell time by it, but the pieces all worked together like the machine. The tiny cogs as well as the big gears spun in time, and everything happened as it was supposed to. So was Crowley supposed to leave? Aziraphale felt a surge of anger and he suddenly kicked at the sand, and the tiny particles sprayed out from the force of the hit. All that was left was a small divot, and his own frustration still lingered. "Fuck you." He hissed, shaking his head and reaching up with the back of his hand to wipe away a few tears that leaked from it. He wasn't exactly sure who he was talking to, but he just wanted the universe to piss off. Very seldom did he feel these emotions, and now that he did once more, he was a slave to them. It always happened when Crowley wasn't around. But the difference between then and now was that he wasn't coming back. Aziraphale exhaled shakily and turned away from the expansive lake. It was torture rather than release now, to see the sky painted on the rippling surface of the water. He knew he had to return back to Earth, and face the end of the world, regardless of what it brought. He had done this to it, and their friendship. He had been the one too weak to take up the suggestion of killing the child, of following Crowley here, and to simply stay. He was runner, that much was true, but Crowley had always been right beside him, matching him step for step, pace for pace. He had always been there, even in their fights and separations. He had been there. Now he wasn't. "Wily bastard. Stupid demon." Aziraphale muttered as he tucked his wings back out of existence, tears still welling in his blue gaze as he turned back to face the world behind him. It was beautiful, really. There were mountains and valleys, a quiet, untouched realm of Crowley's own creation. Some part of him entertained the idea of him showing up. What would they even say, though? Their final words had truly been brutal and furious, and the end of it all. The bandstand had been the last time he would ever see his secret lover. The reality of his long life hit him in that moment and he brought a hand to his cheek, wiping at it furiously as he sniffled. He had never cried in front of Crowley before. That had always been saved for the post-fights, the lonely shore here had seen all of his tears thus far, and it would continue to as long as he existed. "Angel?" The soft voice made Aziraphale freeze. His jaw was slightly dropped as he turned around, meeting the covered gaze of Crowley, who was frozen in place. There was a tense moment of suspension between the two of them, both silently reluctant to break it. Finally, the angel stood upright, attempting to regain his posture. "What do you want?" His voice was cold, or at least, as distant as he could make it. Crowley stepped forward, spreading out his own black wings to match Aziraphale's. The angel stepped back quickly as the demon came closer, until he felt the quiet water lapping at his feet. "Stop. Stop it." Aziraphale tried to snap in a commanding tone, bristling as he stood taller. "Anthony, stop! I'm serious, you can't-" The demon had no regard for his angel's words and he reached a hand up to gently touch his cheek. His other reached up and tugged off the sunglasses so that he could see his eyes. The amber gaze was strained, hurt, and his slitted pupils were wide in the surrounding darkness of Alpha Centauri. "Tell me no, angel. Say it and mean it." He whispered, searching Aziraphale's blue gaze in return desperately. When he was met with silence, he stepped closer, his own toes in the soft waves. Crowley exhaled delicately as they got closer, closer, and his free hand came up to rest on the angel's shoulder. Aziraphale wanted to be angry. He wanted to mean the end of their friendship, their relationship, the end of them. But the wily demon had wound his way into his heart once again, rendering his hurtful words at the bandstand into nothing. He hesitantly lifted his own arms and rested them around Crowley's shoulders, closing his eyes and sighing in defeat. "Serpent." He murmured, clearly not intending hurt behind the insult. "You made me this way, angel." Crowley breathed back and tilted his face up with his thumb, gazing at him with a heartbreaking fondness. "You know I'd do anything for you. I would abandon Earth. I'd ditched my duty the heartbeat I saw you on that wall. I'm here for you. And you can say whatever you want, but you know that I love you." Aziraphale felt tears push at his eyes and he tried to turn his face away, but Crowley's soft grip held him firm. He was forced to look into those serpent eyes, for his every emotion to be exploited and put on display. "What do you want?" The angel asked in a broken voice. "What you want." The demon responded in kind, and Aziraphale's resolve cracked. He threw himself forward into his arms and kissed him, tears slipping down his cheeks. Crowley's grip on him tightened as he pulled him in close, returning the passionate kiss with a silent, relieved sob. Every time Aziraphale ran, he got further and further, and he was afraid he'd lost him this time. But here he was, surrendering to his love in his arms once again. Their relationship was like clockwork, but he wanted to freeze time, right here and now. "Anthony." Aziraphale breathed against Crowley's lips and gazed up at him, his wings drooped completely behind him. Crowley's large black ones came around them to block out the world of Alpha Centauri so it was just the two of them. He knew what his angel was silently begging for. It was what they always broke down to, the most human of acts. He was more than happy to indulge. "What do you want?" Crowley whispered back, the deeper meaning behind the question going unspoken. Aziraphale exhaled a shuddered breath and looked away, and his demon understood. He wanted to be loved, to be forgiven. As an angel, that was incredibly ironic, but he was more than happy to indulge him. Crowley swept him up in his arms and nudged him back, until he was leaning against the sand with his white wings spread out far like a blanket beneath them. He crawled up on his chest and kissed his angel again, and again, pouring out his love into the passionate human act as he began to undo the buttons on his suit jacket. Aziraphale wiggled beneath him to help shed the clothing layer by layer. It was a slow affair, and Crowley always took his time with it. He sat back on the angel's hips and tugged the jacket off of his shoulders, and focused on the ridiculous bowtie next. It was damn cute and he nearly purred as he undid the clasp underneath Aziraphale's collar, and his slim fingers wound their way back to the front to undo the buttons on his collar and the top of his neck. Each one was undone slowly, and once he reached the bottom, Crowley moved on to the next part. It was methodical, tried and true, and he loved it like this. He undid the leather belt and pulled it out of the loops, miracling it away with a mere blink as he moved on to his pants. Aziraphale had an infuriating number of layers. Crowley eased his beige pants down over his lush hips, pressing kisses to the soft skin as he did so. Aziraphale drew in a sharp breath at the passionate treatment and looked away, his pale cheeks dusting pink. Crowley always took so long with this part. It wasn't long until he was left in his boxers, with an undershirt and his button-up hanging off of his shoulders. "Anthony, I-" "Don't say it." Crowley hissed softly, and lifted his amber gaze. "Show me." Aziraphale let out a little whine as Crowley's hand pressed against the front of his boxers, where he was already growing hard. He didn't know what Crowley had been talking about - show him his love, or his apology, or both. His wings curled up at the ends and surrounded the both of them in an ethereal canopy. He would just do both. He fisted the skinny blue tie in his own hands and dove forward, yanking Crowley down with it and beginning to take off the demon's clothes as well. He wasn't nearly so caring or patient with it, shoving the jacket off of his shoulders and nearly ripping out the buttons as he worked to get Crowley naked. It wasn't long before both of them were locked in a passionate kiss, clothes discarded in the sand beside them. Crowley patiently wound his fingers into the sensitive feathers on Aziraphale's wing and the angel arched his back with a hiss. "You are forgiven." The demon whispered to him. "And I'm going to worship you for all you are, my love."


End file.
